One day, when we knew the weather was due to be good but all the girls were a little in need of a little quiet time in the car (if you know what I mean) we decided to go to Dartmouth. It was a longish drive, thanks to the innumerable roadworks and I stopped concentrating. Max must have had a change of plan but I’m hugely embarrassed to admit I spent quite a lot of time walking around ‘Dartmouth’ wondering why the hell everything said Brixham on it.
It was really gorgeous. We wandered about looking at the boats, discussing Arthur Ransom books, reading the memorial plaques on the benches, looking at the replica Golden Hind, telling old family stories about seafood platters, watching the little fish in the harbour and wondering what they were, walking along the sea break and explaining to Josie what it was for, remembering the boat in a bay we once saw and the rainbow that landed on the beach with an ice cream van at the end of it. It was the best sort of day.
No holiday to Devon is quite complete without a trip to the beach and we went back to Burgh Island, which is one of those beaches we always manage to go to when it is quiet, hot and sunny. It is just gorgeous. The hotel has a fabulous history – I’d love to stay there some time.
And also these. It was a perfect end to the holiday.